


In a Tight Spot

by Canaan



Series: How It Could Have Happened [10]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-16
Updated: 2011-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-15 17:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canaan/pseuds/Canaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you were pressed up against me this way in the King's audience chamber, I think I'd die on the spot."  H/C PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Tight Spot

**Author's Note:**

> I'm afraid I committed porn for the Torchwood/Doctor Who Comment!Porn Battle V. Completely unbeta'd.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them; all hail the BBC.

Jack shut the door behind them as fast as he could without slamming it. He heard the auto-seal kick in and grimaced. He might be able to fiddle that with his wristcomp . . . or they might be stuck here until the Arpovell found them or the Doctor came to their rescue.

He and Rose just barely fit in the empty e-suit cubby. Under normal circumstances, having all of Rose's lush curves pressed up against him was foreplay, and he opened his mouth to make a suggestive remark before he realized her breasts were heaving against his chest at a pace their narrow escape couldn't account for. He leaned forward to speak into her ear: "Are you okay, Rose? Are you hurt?"

She whimpered, softly. "'m not hurt," she gritted. "'m just not good with . . . small spaces. Maybe a little . . . claustrophobic." The silence in the darkened cubby was huge as Jack realized her laboured breathing was subdued panic. "I'll be fine. The Doctor'll finish with the Arpovell, and come get us, and then I'll be fine." Her voice was high and thready.

Jack stroked her back, trying to soothe her. "It's dark in here. Just keep your eyes closed and pretend you're leaning back against the wall of a large room. The audience chamber on Monellus IV, maybe."

She giggled, and the sound was just shy of hysterical. "Jack," she hissed into his ear, "if I stretch my arms out, my elbows hit the walls. Besides, if you were pressed up against me this way in the King's audience chamber, I think I'd die on the spot."

It was, he admitted to himself, a rather suggestive picture. "You never know," he purred into her ear. He pressed her harder into the cubby's back wall and slid his hands down to squeeze her bum, trapping her arms at her sides. "You might like it."

Her breath caught in a way that wasn't panic, this time. "Jack!" she whispered. "Not the time or the place."

He licked the curve of her ear and pinched her bottom. She squirmed in his grasp. "Got something better to do?" The scent of her was intense in the small space, and a squirming armful of Rose Tyler was fantastic at any time. If it happened to distract her from the close confines of their hiding space, so much the better. He bent to kiss any protests out of her mouth, playing his tongue against her lips until they parted for him. When she moaned a little, he broke the kiss. "Ah ah ah," he whispered. "Wouldn't want all those people to hear you, hmm?" _Wouldn't want the Arpovell to cotton on about our little disappearing act._

"You're impossible," she breathed, accusingly. She wiggled her arms around in his grip and tucked her hands into his front pockets, pulling his hips hard against her.

Rose was amazingly hot when she was pushy. He ground against her belly a little and had to stifle a moan of his own. He felt her nipples harden through the fabric of their shirts. "You love it," he whispered, getting a hand between them and scooping one ripe breast out of her bra and low neckline to squeeze. She sighed in response and he toyed with her nipple.

It drew a frustrated sound from her lips. She yanked his T-shirt out of his jeans and drew her hands up the warm skin beneath. He shivered at her touch and kissed her again, dragging his other hand around to unbutton her jeans. She made a small noise of protest, which got her a little nip at her lower lip as he slid her zip down. She tried twice before he let her break away enough to say, "The Doctor . . . "

" . . . has seen worse." He worked his hand between the lace of her knickers and the soft curls beneath them. _And the Arpovell would just shoot us. But what a way to go._ He played one fingertip down over the soft flesh between her legs. Her knees sighed apart and he snaked the other arm around behind her again, using the leverage to pin her against the wall at a height he liked. She was already slick to the touch and she bit at his shoulder to muffle a cry as his fingers began to circle her clit.

They could have been in the e-suit cubby, or the audience chamber, or the main briefing room of the Time Agency for all he noticed. Jack let his world narrow to the woman in his arms, delighting in the way she twitched helplessly against his hand and rocking his erection against her hip. "You have to be very, very quiet when you come," he murmured, pressing firmly against her clit. She bucked in his grip, desperate for more motion, and the pressure and the words slid her over the edge.

The smothered sounds of her release were sweet in Jack's ears . . . right up until she flailed with one arm and her hand made contact with the wall behind him, and fear began to bleed through her desire. He circled her clit again and felt her body pay attention. "Don't you have something better to do with that hand?" he teased, and coaxed another orgasm out of her.

Oh, she did. He gave her the space she wanted and she unfastened his jeans, one hand reaching down to cup him as she worked jeans and pants down. He babbled into her ear, far more concerned with what her hands were doing and with keeping his voice at a whisper than with the sense of the words. It was a battle to slide her trousers past her knees, and he was pretty sure he ripped her knickers getting them out of his way, but he managed it without ever having her slide down that wall. When he put a hand under each thigh and lifted her, she breathed, "Oh god, yes." He brushed the lightest of kisses across her lips before bringing the sweet heat of her down on him.

The angle wasn't the best, and he wanted her legs wrapped around his waist, but neither of them was complaining. She kept her hands plastered to his shoulderblades, her nails biting into his flesh through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. He rocked against her, the confined space restricting his movements in a way that was both frustrating and perfect; because as long as he was shagging her, the only place she was was _with him_ , and the small space around them could go hang.

He was waiting, waiting, and waiting some more. Rose kissed him frantically, and when that didn't get her what she wanted, she bit the side of his neck, drawing a low groan from him. He shifted her again, trying to get the angle she needed, and was rewarded when she whimpered harshly and sucked on the spot she held between her teeth. He was going to revel in that mark for days--provided they _had_ days. Short, shallow strokes were bringing her close again. "Please, Jack," she whispered. "Please."

She came apart in his embrace, and as much as he wanted to hold out, he almost couldn't bear it anymore. When artificial light spilled suddenly over them as the door was flung open, Jack gave in: If it was the Arpovell, he damned well wanted to come before he died. A few quick thrusts brought him to the point of swearing. His knees started to buckle and someone caught him around the waist and propped him up from behind.

"Doctor?" Rose breathed.

The Doctor's words drifted through Jack as trailing shocks of pleasure shuddered through his frame. "Been chasin' around the station tryin' to find you, and you've been havin' a post-crisis shag?" The Time Lord's voice was sharp, but he sounded subtly amused.

Jack rested his head on Rose's shoulder. "I've been caught bare-ass naked before," he admitted, ruefully. "But never quite like this."


End file.
